In Flanders Fields
by NettieC
Summary: A tribute for Memorial Day to all those who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom.


Disclaimer: Not mine

AN: After reading usmgrad's beautiful 'Lest We Forget' on HBX I was inspired to write this tribute to those who have served and died on this, your Memorial Day. I chose In Flanders Fields because it's a poem I have always found very moving.

It's been written in a couple of hours, so all mistakes are mine.

In Flanders Fields  
>Dedicated to all those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.<p>

Ella Rabb held a small red poppy in her hand as she stood in front of The Wall with her father. With her mother and siblings at home in San Diego, she had made the trip to DC with her dad for this special occasion. It wasn't a birthday or a treat or Christmas, it was Memorial Day. On the agenda was Arlington, The Wall and a lesson in the military history of the Rabb family for the 12 year old.

Her class had been researching Memorial Day and what it meant, and Ella had come across 'In Flanders Fields'. As her homework project, she had completed a biography of John McCrae and had cried when she discovered the good Canadian doctor had died in during the war, in 1918. While she knew her parents both served in the military, that her grandfather was an MIA-POW, and her great grandfather died in WW2, there was something intrinsically sad about the loss of Lieutenant Colonel McCrae.

It had been her idea to travel to DC; she wanted to see the memorials to make it real and more meaningful than the textbooks and computer screen. While Mac was impressed with her daughter's desire to make it a family trip, she felt it would have more impact if the youngerchildren weren't there.

Harm had watched with pride as he and Ella had walked through Arlington; the child stopping every now and then to straighten up some flowers or to run her hand across a cold, white headstone. Respectful the whole time, Ella's eyes teared up more than once and finally, as they were standing at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, her first tears fell.  
>"What's wrong, honey?" he whispered, wrapping and arm around her shoulder and drawing her closer.<br>"I was just thinking how sad it was that no one knows who's in there," she said with a sniffle. "I know it represents all those who died but if you were his mom or dad or brother or sister, wouldn't it be nice to know this was their grave?"  
>"It would be," Harm agreed, kissing her head.<br>"And look out there – all those white headstones. They're everywhere..." she said, gesturing widely. "I read that 116,708 American military people died in WW1 and that's a lot...then there were the ones who died in other wars and because they were injured in war and after a while they are just lots of numbers. But being here...seeing them lying out there...it makes me sad that so many had to die...and they keep dying because people don't do the right thing. And it also makes me proud that we have so many men and women who are still ready to fight for our freedom and to keep us safe."  
>"That makes me proud too," Harm said, holding her tightly.<br>"And I'm proud of you and mom too," she added pressing up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Now, at The Wall, Ella reached out and traced her grandfather's name.  
>"Hey, grandad," she said quietly. "Dad and I are here to see you today because it's Memorial Day. I'm sorry I can't visit you more often but we live in California and that's a long way away. Still, I don't think you'd mind because I know you're not buried here...Dad said he'd explain it all to me after lunch."<p>

Harm stood by her side silently. He had always known his daughter was compassionate and caring but this time he was witnessing just how mature she had become.

"I learnt the poem In Flanders Field and I'd like to share it with you. Would that be alright?" she asked then turned to check with her dad. When Harm nodded, she drew a deep breath, clenched the poppy in her hand and began:  
>"In Flanders fields the poppies blow<br>Between the crosses, row on row,  
>That mark our place; and in the sky<br>The larks, still bravely singing, fly  
>Scarce heard amid the guns below.<p>

We are the Dead. Short days ago  
>We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,<br>Loved and were loved, and now we lie  
>In Flanders fields.<p>

Take up our quarrel with the foe:  
>To you from failing hands we throw<br>The torch; be yours to hold it high.  
>If ye break faith with us who die<br>We shall not sleep, though poppies grow  
>In Flanders fields"<p>

Harm couldn't help but cry as his daughter recited the poem slowly and articulately.  
>"Now, grandad, "I have a poppy here for you and I know you don't have a cross or a grave anywhere for me to leave it so I'm going to leave it on the ground underneath your name for you," she continued. "When we were at Arlington, dad and I were talking about how important it is to remember those who have fought and died for our freedom over all the years and all the wars and how it's really important that men and women today still go and fight and follow in your footsteps. We have to be sure that we stay free and that we stay safe. You don't know about September 11. I don't remember it from the time either but I've seen and heard lots about it now. I don't understand how people can do such horrible things to other people ...I don't understand how they did it to you and I don't understand how they did it to all those people at the World Trade Center ... but I do know it's important that there are people like you and mom and dad and great grandad who go and fight to protect us."<p>

Harm placed his hand on his young daughter's shoulder, trying to draw strength from her calmness and sincerity. Now, he wished he had thought about recording the moment for Mac, but she would have to do with a retell.  
>"I know you were a sailor, grandad, just like dad was and like your dad was," Ella continued. "And you'll probably find it funny that dad married a marine...women can be marines too now, just in case you didn't know that. Anyway, I am going to brave like you and mom and dad and great grandad and I'm going to serve our country just like all the Rabbs...but, if it's alright with you, I'd like to be like my mom and be a marine. She always says the marines are always helping you squids...so I don't think you'll mind. Do you think he'll mind?" Ella asked, turning to face her dad. It was then she noticed the tears on her father's face.<br>"Oh, dad," she said quickly, wrapping her arms around his waist. "If you really mind about me being a marine I can think about the Navy."  
>"No, Ella," he said, kissing her head. "I want you to be a marine, I want you to be anything you want to be. I'm just incredibly proud of you."<br>"Why?" she asked, not understanding just how much her words had meant to her father.

He had often thought his own traumas growing up would impact on his ability to parent his own children. When he and Mac had struggled and separated after the loss of their son, Callum, late in the pregnancy, those thoughts had grown stronger. Now, listening to his daughter, he knew he and Mac had done a wonderful job so far.

It wasn't long before the pair left The Wall and went for lunch at Beltway Burgers, Ella's choice.  
>"Mom has always said this place has the best burgers," she said as they pulled into a car park Harm knew all too well, although it did seem like a life time ago he was there. "Do you think they do?"<br>"Well, I don't eat their burgers," Harm reminded her. "But their curly fries and vegie burgers are quite good."  
>"It's too bad we can't take some home for mom," she said, taking Harm's hand as they walked into the fast food restaurant.<br>Harm just smiled; happy there wasn't a Beltway Burgers in California. The move west had done wonders for his wife's eating habits.

Over lunch, Harm told Ella about his father. He added details to the basic facts she had grown up with. He explained how the man had ended up in Russia and how he had become a father again. He told her how he died trying to protect a woman and how his body was thrown into the river. Speaking with as little emotion as he could manage and leaving out graphic details, Harm shared the story of Harmon Rabb Sr.

When lunch was finished, Ella stood from her seat and came around the table and sat on Harm's lap. Something she hadn't done in a while. Looping her arms around his neck, she rested her head on his shoulder.  
>"I know it's not the same thing, daddy," she said quietly. "But I was five when you went away and I was really sad too and I cried lots but at least I could talk to you on the phone and on Skype and I knew where you were."<br>Not having any words, Harm kissed her head.  
>"And I was so happy when you came home and we got to live together again," she continued. "And I'm sorry you didn't get that with your dad. I love grandpa but I really wish you had got to spend more time with grandad."<br>"Me too, baby, me too," he replied, kissing her head.  
>"And I really wanted to be a marine and go out and make the world safe for everyone," she said, looking deep into his blue eyes. "But I think maybe I'll be a sailor just like you and grandad and great grandad...and that way the memory of grandad and great granddad continues. There'll be another Rabb in the Navy and their legacy will continue. I think they'd like that," she said with a nod.<p>

"I think they would too, Ella," Harm said, hugging her to him. "I think they would too."


End file.
